Poodle Puppy Puddles 
   
The back door opens, and  
  prancing paws present like a 
chaotic clown shot from a cannon.    

Erratic paw prints mark her journey. 
I rejoice in perceiving that the splats 
are transparent therefore innocent.    

Eyes shining like onyx marbles 
express immense urgency. 
Ah, relief. Oops, carpet isn’t grass.    

Yellow blotches resemble a Pollock. 
Fine art by a dog registered as 
Blue - pedigree jargon for Black.    

Random golden puddles of pee 
can foul even Edison or da Vinci,   
when trod on by an unsuspecting tootsie.    

Are the piddle puddles still warm? 
Or if those citrine dribbles are cold, 
it’s way past time to scold.    

Clandestine piddles are the worst. 
Nightly excursions in cozy socks 
slurp them up like Sponge Bob.    

An alternate option is to depart ones bed, 
to stand starkers under the porch light, 
as she sniffs for a perfect place to whiz.    

She’s a precocious pooch for sure, 
just don’t get me started on 
poodle puppy 
poop.

This poem was written for Professor Sonnet L'Abbe's poetry class.
Another Student had written a very humorous poem, and I wanted
to give that a try and what could be more inspiring than our
new puppy, Freddie.